


Untitled Ficlet

by the_heart_asks



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal - All Media Types, The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 23:23:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20665532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_heart_asks/pseuds/the_heart_asks
Summary: A Heretic and Wanderer snippet set early in their partnership.





	Untitled Ficlet

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted anonymously on fail_fandomanon.

It was all urGoh's stubborn fault anyway, but now skekGra's other half was ignoring him to smoke and build another of those ridiculous puppets. Despite himself, he glanced over. Surely the paint would dry on the brush before urGoh managed to bring it to the wood? No, there was a glistening streak of deep brown following the brush down the puppet's face. He lost interest and turned back to his meal, not that it deserved his attention either. He hadn't eaten anything really entertaining in trines. Even out in the desert he could've at least had live meat, but urGoh had kept complaining about that, and he'd benevolently agreed to give it up. He did so much for urGoh, and urGoh didn't appreciate --

There was a quiet, rhymthic clinking. He looked over. His other half was patiently tapping his brush against the rim of the clay cup. When he was finally satisfied, nothing was left to drip on the floor.

The anger had drained from his body as he watched, and what was left in the space it had occupied was something dull and hollow. Why had he argued about washing a few sheets? There was no reason to clean them after barely half a trine when they were hardly even dirty, not when there weren't any slaves to do it, but it wasn't worth fighting over. They were meant to be one. Two shouldn't fight over bedding.

He pushed the remains of his breakfast away. Then he remembered the last argument about dirty dishes and picked the plate up. His eyes wandered again to his second self. urGoh was frowning at another puppet now, a large Nurloc which had enough moving parts for four hands all by itself, as he pulled at a wooden rod in its back.

An unexpected thought struck him; an unusual hesitation accompanied it. But then again, he'd never have gotten here by thinking before he spoke. "You should teach me how to do that."

urGoh's eyes, slowly widening, finally rose to meet his. "You ... want ..."

skekGra scraped the bones of his breakfast into the rubbish.

"... to learn ... about ..."

"Come on, come on, one more word," he prompted as he turned back to urGoh.

"... pup ... pe ... try?"

"Finally! I don't care about puppets." He burst into laughter. "Show me anyway."

There was a nearly eternal silence while his slower half regarded him thoughtfully.

"I'd ..." urGoh reached into the puppets' cupboard. "... like ..." skekGra dropped a cushion on the floor across from him. "... that."

urGoh was beginning to hold out one of the dangly ones with strings. It was going to be a long morning. But his other half was smiling for the first time all day, and a feeling a little like victory, but quieter and softer, was spreading through him. He laughed again. And who knew? Maybe he'd learn to like the puppets after all.


End file.
